


Lowlands

by gotta_write_them_all (sailorsally)



Category: Black Sails
Genre: First Kiss, Injury, Lots of Emotional Baggage, M/M, Mentions of drugs, Sea Shanties, also I noticed only towards the end, also known as Silver's stump, and i feel like a traitor, as always men have feelings, because HIGH ROMANCE, heinous amounts of hand kisses, however this time the feelings are accompanied by joji playing hurdy gurly, love confessions almost, mentions of Miranda because James can't not be miserable for one (1) second, mentions of amputation, neutralized by some dancing, shanty singing, so might add smth about him later, soft pirates, that come out at the most unexpected times, that this is the first fic I have written, which imo absolutely enhances the whole thing, without mentioning Thomas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-15
Updated: 2020-05-15
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:00:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24204796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailorsally/pseuds/gotta_write_them_all
Summary: The Walrus men sing sea shanties. Silver and Flint dance.
Relationships: Captain Flint | James McGraw/John Silver
Comments: 15
Kudos: 64





	Lowlands

The ship rocks gently, slices through still but powerful waves beneath when music fills the captain's cabin.

Flint sits at his desk studying the maps that are scattered all over the place, part of the cache they acquired in the last raid, at least the part he cares about the most. Silver is reclining on the window sill, going through the captain's log that came with the same maps. His leg is as healed as it will be but whenever he can he still prefers the spacious windowsill to a ratty hammock in living quarters below the deck he has to share with 50 other men. The boot is off and his crutch is resting against a cushion. His leg, or what’s left of it, is up, rests on another cushion as he flips through the log, scanning the pages for any kind of information that might come in handy.

The sudden music makes both of them look up from what they are doing.

It’s a barely audible sound of concertina and Silver thinks the men must have found it among the plunder from the last ship too.

The music ceases momentarily before it continues, sounding more rich and broken at the same time as a hurdy-gurdy joins in.

“Joji,” Flint says.

  
Silver raises his eyebrows.

The instrument must be out of tune because Flint has seen Joji play one masterfully years ago at Port Royal so the eerie sound can’t be entirely his fault. The man is a mystery. Ten years coming up that he has been part of Flint's crew but Flint knows next to nothing about his past. Much like someone else currently inhabiting his cabin.

The tune comes together and then someone starts singing.

_‘Oh, we'd be alright if the wind was in our sails_

_We'd be alright if the wind was in our sails’_

A deep raspy voice fills the room. It's too muffled to say for sure but it sounds like

“Muldoon?” Silver asks.

  
Flint nods smiling.

“Didn't know Muldoon was a musician,” Silver says sitting up.

_‘And we'll ro-o-oll the old chariot along!_

_We'll ro-o-oll the old chariot along!’_

The rest of the crew join in.

“None of them are musicians,” James says with bitterness that has more to do with him remembering Miranda's seamless clavichord play and less with the men on the deck being tone-deaf.

“Too tasteless for an educated man such as yourself?” Silver teases.

Flint, still haunted by the image of Miranda’s fingers masterfully moving on the black and white keys, doesn't answer.

“Well, it's the only kind of music I know,” Silver says shifting in his seat, “in fact, I have danced to it on many occasions. Well, before, when I still had the adequate number of limbs for such a thing,” Silver says adjusting his leg.

Flint watches him from his desk as he fumbles with the cushions desperately looking for another optimal position for his stump.

He remembers the first time he saw Silver on this very window sill just mere hours after the amputation. He was unconscious from laudanum, his brow covered in thick perspiration. He looked so young then.

Flint will never admit this to anyone but at that point, having just lost Miranda, he was glad he had someone to care for, something else to occupy his mind with. So he did, made sure Silver got the best care from Howell and that there was always plenty of clean water & dressing for his wound and that Silver got a filling meal every evening and every night when the pain got worse and Silver would drift in and out he’d read to him, one book after another. They must have made their way through at least ¾ rd of James’ library but between pain and the drowsiness caused by pain medication, he’s not sure Silver remembers any of it or if he’d even prefer for Silver to remember.

He looks at Silver now, the bottom of his face obscured by a bushy beard, his dark curls reaching all the way to his chest and his eyes, the same flickering sadness James remembers.

Flint stands up from the table he's sitting and pushes the furniture to the wall.

“What are you doing?” Silver looks up, genuinely confused.

In three long strides, Flint is standing before him.

“Come on, get up.”

Silver looks at him suspiciously.

“I'm going to help you.”

Silver reaches for his crunch but Flint disregards it, pulls on both of his hands instead and hoists Silver up to his foot.

The ship wobbles and Silver wobbles with it so Flint puts his hands on the man’s hips to steady him.

“You okay?” Flint asks.

_‘I dreamed a dream the other night._

_Lowlands, lowlands away me John’_

The tune above the deck changes and Silver suddenly sees through James’ plan.

“This will never work”

“It will”, James contradicts.

“We' ll just have to get closer,” he says and moves farther into Silver's space, pressing his torso to Silvers.

His right arm slides under Silver’s armpit and envelopes Silvers back to give him support. Silver’s left hand comes up to rest on Flint's collarbone. He looks at Flint, anticipating his next move.

Flint's left hand finds Silvers right, presses their palms firm together and lifts them into position.

“Now, you lean on me so I can carry the weight,” he tells Silver.

' _It’s too much already,_ ' Silver thinks but it’s not like he’s in any position to run.

So he does lean and Flint begins to gently sway them to the tune drifting in from the deck.

Suddenly his arms grip Silver tighter as he gently lifts the man and just like that they are dancing.

John feels weightless as they waltz all the way to the cabin’s door, the old wooden beams squeaking around them.

_‘I dreamed I saw my own true love_

_Lowlands, lowlands away_

_She came close by to my bedside_

_Lowlands, lowlands away, my John’_

John hides his face in the crook of James' neck and James let's him. He continues to carry Silver around the cabin guided by the rhythm of the shanty until the muscles in his arms get too sore.

_‘She came to me all in my sleep,_

_Lowlands, Lowlands, away, my John,_

_I dreamed I saw my own true love,_

_My Lowlands, away!’_

The song comes to an end as Flint stops and sets John down.

“You okay?”

Silver slowly disentangled himself from James' embrace.

“Yes. This was ... I enjoyed it. Didn't know I could ever ag-... Thank you,” he says, at last, looking directly at James, orbs the colour of the sea staring at the captain.

Flint's hand goes up to tuck an unruly curl behind his ear.

“You are welcome”

It's a silly thing to get emotional about, Silver knows this but he has never been welcome anywhere or by anyone but now James’ palm burns his shoulder and he remembers James’ voice, the only constant in the slumber induced by pain and drugs, reading to him in the candlelight as he lay there thinking he’d be better off dead. Remembers the salvation he felt each time Flint would hold up a cup full of water to his chapped lips or put a cold wiped his burning brow with a cold rag and knows he hasn’t felt this loved - yes that’s how he feels - ever and he wants Flint to know this, he deserves to know this.

“James, I-,” he tries to gather his thoughts but words won’t cooperate. So he tries actions - finds James’ palm on his shoulder, lifts it to his mouth and plant a soft kiss on the back of his palm.

James breathing hitches and then Silvers is kissing his mouth and Flint is kissing him back.

Once they pull away they almost trip over.

“Easy, Mr Quartermaster,” Flint smiles,” we should probably sit down,” he suggests and helps Silver back to the window sill.

Once Silver’s settled, Flint sits down next to him, taking Silver’s hands in his, his thumbs drawing circles on the rough skin of Silver’s palms.

The jig from above the deck has mellowed down, or maybe it’s the blood rushing through their veins that makes them think so.

They are painfully aware that they should talk before going further but neither know what to say.

“I-”

  
“You-” both of them start simultaneously and have to laugh.

“You go first,” Flint says looking at Silver’s hands in his lap.

  
“I think you should -”

They are interrupted by a loud bang that shakes the cabin followed by a sound that can only be described as even more broken hurdy gurdy than before. A man starts shouting, then the others join in and it's not long until there is a full-blown brawl on the deck.

“Seems like you weren't their only critic,” Silver laughs.

Flint rolls his eyes as he gets up.

“Stay here, I'll sort this out,” Flint tells him, quickly kissing his fingers before he lets go.

“It's not like I can waltz out of here, captain,” Silver replies playfully, “not without your help.”

**Author's Note:**

> So I watched a documentary about shanties yesterday and today this happened *shrugs*  
> Anyways, the two shanties mentioned are 'Roll the old chariot" & "Lowlands away". The later has at least dozens of different versions so I took liberty to rearrange some lines a bit to better fit the narrative.  
> Enjoy and please comment so I know for sure you enjoyed it! <3  
> If you wanna chat about these idiots, find me on tumblr @sailorsally


End file.
